


Fallen Angel of Despair

by ikuzonos



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mastermind, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, F/F, Gen, Mastermind Ikusaba Mukuro, i'm sorry for how long this fic is going to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9174001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuzonos/pseuds/ikuzonos
Summary: Ever since Mukuro was born, she was Junko's sister, Junko's accomplice, Junko's tool. That was the way of things.The problem with despair is that it's unpredictable.





	1. Chapter 1

The Ryouko Otonashi Project had been a complete success.

A cold feeling remained in Mukuro’s stomach, even though Junko was entirely back to normal. Her twin sister was fast asleep on the singular bed in the room, while she was huddled in a ball on the floor. Soft moonlight shone in through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle silver colour. Mukuro kept to the shadows, not wanting to be exposed.

When morning came, she would bleach Junko’s hair blonde again, and return her coloured contacts. Then, the two of them would return to class like nothing had changed. Mukuro wasn’t sure how they would explain the sudden disappearance of Ryouko Otonashi, but Junko had assured her that everything was under control.

Yasuke Matsuda and Yuuto Kamishiro, the only people who could potentially reveal the truth behind the project, were already dead. No other person at the Academy - student or faculty - would be able to prove anything. Her own classmates - excluding Kirigiri and perhaps Togami - were easy enough to fool, and would believe that Junko was overseas on a photoshoot without a second thought. It should have made Mukuro pleased, but it simply made her feel sick.

Time was beginning to run out. Now that the memory removal technique had been perfected, it was only a matter of time before Class 77-B was brainwashed, and Class 78 began to play a game of mutual killing. Junko had every detail planned down to the wire, and had accounted for nearly anything that could disrupt her plans.

In fact, the only that that Junko hadn’t seemed to account for was the idea that Mukuro herself might betray her. Junko had made quick comments about how she wouldn’t hesitate to kill Mukuro, should it come to that, but Mukuro knew deep down that Junko didn’t really feel like that. They were all that the other had, and it had been that way ever since they were kids. Junko would always have a use for her, no matter what she said.

Mukuro often wondered if she could get away with betraying Junko. Truthfully, she didn’t think it would be very hard. Why she put such fantasies into her head, she couldn’t quite be sure. It wasn’t that she _wanted_ to betray her sister, it was simply the notion that she _could._ Not to mention, what could possibly give Junko more despair than being betrayed by her own twin, the person she knew better than anyone else in the world?

Junko rolled over on the bed. Mukuro cast a fleeting glance at her, then focused her gaze back on the window.

It wasn’t particularly cold in Mukuro’s room, but the darkness and late hour certainly gave it a certain amount of loneliness that made her shiver. Usually, Mukuro didn’t mind being alone. Her room was her quiet place, the one area where she didn’t have to focus on anything. But with Junko there, even though she was fast asleep, Mukuro suddenly felt worlds away.

Silently, she stood and made her way towards the window. Mukuro had the intention of shutting the curtains, but as soon as she got to it, she froze. Something about the way that the moonshine lit up the grounds was breathtaking. Mukuro stood there for a moment, watching the night and the stars above, completely captivated by sight. She didn’t move a muscle, until she heard the sound of sheets shifting behind her.

“Sis?” Junko’s voice rang through the room, “What are you doing? It’s really late, and I’m tired. Can you brood later?”

Mukuro jumped, slightly spooked, “S-Sorry, Junko-chan. I was just… closing the curtains. It’s getting too bright in here.”

Junko yawned, believing the simple lie, and flopped down on the bed again, “Well, do it quieter. And take a shower in the morning. I can smell you from here.”

Mukuro’s face twitched, “Yes, sis. Goodnight.”

Junko made a quiet grunt, and turned away from the window. Mukuro looked back outside, and shifted behind the curtains. They brushed the back of her head, but she ignored the sensation as she pressed closer to the cold window.

Here, she was weak. Here, Mukuro was vulnerable to the deafening silence of the witching hour. She hated knowing that she was weak. More than anything, Mukuro had to be strong, especially if she was going to be Junko’s tool. She couldn’t afford to have any deficiencies.

Tools are strong. Tools do not break. Tools do not have treacherous impulses.

Mukuro closed her fist tightly, then slipped out from behind the curtains, and lay down in a dark corner of the room. The floor was hard, but it was certainly no worse than the cold winter nights in Fenrir. Her eyes closed slowly, lids heavy. She fell asleep without much problem, but her dreams were just as intense as always.

She awoke before the sun rose, and rushed to the bathroom. Mukuro only made it just in time, and threw up the contents of her stomach. Disoriented and light headed, she collapsed on the tile, and fell back asleep.

-

Hot water dripped down her face, and ran down her body. Mukuro’s head hung forwards, as she looked down at the drain by her feet.

The water pressure in the shower was slowly weakening, but it wasn’t enough to bother her. It still pounded against her skin relentlessly, which was the important part. Mukuro wondered if it would bruise her if she stayed long enough, or just wrinkle all her skin.

Probably the latter.

There was a bang on the bathroom door, and then came the sound of Junko’s muffled shout, “Hurry up, Muku-chan!”

Mukuro shut off the shower head, hitting her hand against the rough tile by accident, before pressing the switch that stopped the water. Her hair clung to her skin as she left the stall.

She wrapped a towel around herself, and then opened the door. Junko stood on the other side, an annoyed expression on her face. She pushed past Mukuro without saying a word, and went straight to the mirror.

“Can't you do this in your own room?” Mukuro questioned, wiping her feet on the mat.

Junko scoffed, “And chance getting caught by someone? No way in hell. Where did you put the hair dye?”

When Mukuro didn't respond, Junko spun around on her heels, “You _did_ remember to buy hair dye, right? What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you specifically to have everything ready for when I came back, you stupid piece of shit! You're such a goddamn failure!”

She broke off, her chest heaving. When she calmed down, Mukuro murmured, “It's in the cabinet under the sink…”

Junko softened, “You should have said so sooner. Hurry up and get dressed, okay?”

Mukuro blinked, “Why? There's no class today, is there?”

She scowled, “Do you really think that I'm gonna bleach this mess all by myself? I have way too much hair for that shit. Come on, I don't have all day. I look like Maizono-san right now, and that's hardly a flattering look.”

Mukuro privately disagreed - Maizono was incredibly beautiful - but said, “I’ll get dressed. Give me a couple minutes.”

“Tch…” Junko hissed, running a hand through her hair, “Be quick about it.”

Mukuro left the bathroom, her hair dripping onto the carpet. She opened her closet and quickly changed into a casual shirt and skirt, plus some socks. After a moment, she rummaged for her gloves and pulled them on. No point in bleaching her fingers as well as her sister’s hair. Then, she rubbed the ends of her hair with the towel, and returned to the bathroom where Junko was waiting.

-

Junko was sitting on a stool in the bathroom, browsing fashion websites on her phone. She had to sit there for the next forty minutes while the bleach set in. After that, she’d have to shower and blow dry her hair. According to the box that Mukuro had picked up, that would ‘turn even the darkest strands a gorgeous blonde.’ She didn’t know quite about that, but it was the best thing in the store.

While Junko did that, Mukuro sat hunched over at her desk, finishing up all the work that she needed to hand in for the next day, and neatly typing out her lecture notes for Junko. She wasn’t fully caught up herself, due to the fact that she’d been running around masquerading as Junko at night, and had already emailed a couple classmates for some of their notes. She hoped that they would buy the lie she had included, but she had no way of knowing for sure.

A notification pinged on her screen, and Mukuro clicked on it. It was an email alert from Naegi, who had gotten back to her much sooner than she had expected.

**From: naegim.hopeful@kibougamine.org**

**To: ikusabam.wolf@kibougamine.org**

**Subject:** RE: Lecture Notes

 **Attachment: (1)** somegoshdangnotes.txt

**Body:**

_hi Ikusaba-san! i have the notes attached to this o: i noticed you were really out of it last class and i hope you’re feeling much better now! btw i’m really sorry if you can’t read my writing aaaa o: hope i helped you c:_

Mukuro opened the attachment, unable to stop herself from chuckling lightly at the document title. It seemed that Naegi had dragged pictures of the notes onto a word document instead of simply emailing the pictures themselves. She shrugged - who was she to turn down his help, especially after asking for it? - and downloaded the file. Then she wrote back a reply.

**From: ikusabam.wolf@kibougamine.org**

**To: naegim.hopeful@kibougamine.org**

**Subject:** RE: RE: Lecture Notes

**Attachment: N/A**

**Body:**

_Thank you very much; I hope it wasn’t much trouble. Don’t worry, I can read them just fine. Have a nice afternoon, Naegi-kun._

Mukuro began transcribing the photos bit by bit, until she could fill in her own disorganized and unfinished notes. By the time she was done, she could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Had it already been forty minutes since she left Junko alone?

She shrugged - Junko knew what she was doing better than Mukuro did - and returned to completing her homework. Another notification came up on her laptop screen, and Mukuro swiftly clicked on it. It was another email alert, this time from Maizono.

**From: maizonos.psychic@kibougamine.org**

**To: ikusabam.wolf@kibougamine.org**

**Subject:** RE: Friday’s Lecture Notes

 **Attachment: (1)** notesforikusabachan.txt

**Body:**

_aaaaaa gosh (o^ ^o) sorry this took so long !! i wanted to properly type my notes out so u didn’t have to decipher my shorthand ლ(¯ロ¯"ლ) anyways here u go ! i hope it’s helpful to u and have a nice weekend !!! i’ll see u tomorrow for class! ＼(≧▽≦)／_

Mukuro stared at the email blankly for a few minutes, unsure of how to respond. Maizono’s message was incredibly sweet, which confused her greatly. While the two weren’t enemies, they weren’t exactly friends either. Sure, they sat together occasionally, and Mukuro was always available to listen to Maizono talk, but she had never thought that they were close.

Perhaps she’d been wrong? Perhaps she and the idol were closer friends than she had thought.

Mukuro shook her head. That didn’t matter now. The last thing she needed was to become friends with someone who was likely to die in a few months anyways. Before she could lose her motivation to communicate, she typed a response.

**From: ikusabam.wolf@kibougamine.org**

**To: maizonos.psychic@kibougamine.org**

**Subject:** RE: RE: Friday’s Lecture Notes

**Attachment: N/A**

**Body:**

_I really appreciate the extra effort you put into this, Maizono-san. Thank you very much for helping me out. I’ll see you on Monday - have a nice afternoon._

With that, she leaned back in her chair. The sound of the shower had stopped, and Mukuro could barely make out the wheeze of her feeble blow dryer. That settled it. In a matter of hours, Junko would be herself again. What happened after that was anyone’s guess, really.

She rubbed her eyes, then sent the documents with the notes to her printer. It buzzed next to her, and an alert came up on the screen that it was ‘low on toner.’ It had been saying that for the past eight months. Mukuro ignored it. The documents slid out, and Mukuro sorted them so that Junko would be able to flip through them without problem.

When Junko came out of the bathroom, her hair was already up in her trademark pigtails. Mukuro handed her the notes, and Junko frowned, “What’s this crap?”

“Notes from all the classes that you missed. Kizakura-sensei plans on giving us a quiz tomorrow, so I thought you’d want those,” Mukuro replied swiftly.

Junko flipped through them, and nodded, “Good going, sis. I’ll make sure to look these over tonight! Oh, I’d better get back to my room. I have shit to do, and it’s nearly two o’clock. I’ll text you if I need anything!”

With that, she waved at Mukuro and ran out the door.

Mukuro sighed, and stood up. She closed and locked her door - Junko had just left it open like always - then sat down on her bed. It was quiet in her room again, but not the same haunting silence that had plagued her the previous night. No, this was a gentle, peaceful quiet.

It was safe now.


	2. Chapter 2

Junko practically burst into the classroom that morning. Whether it was intentional or not, Mukuro wasn’t sure, but she certainly succeeded in scaring the living hell out of Ishimaru and Oogami, the only people in the room. They had arrived uncharacteristically early that morning, especially for Junko. Kizakura wasn’t even in the room yet.

Mukuro quietly sat down at her desk off to the side, while Junko marched over to their classmates and began talking. She tried to tune her sister out, and focus on studying for the quiz was was undoubtedly first thing that morning - Kizakura liked surprises - but it was almost no use. Junko was just too loud.

Ishimaru said, “Tell me, Enoshima-kun, have you been studying at all while you were away? I understand that your modelling career is important, but your studies always come first!”

Junko flashed him a cheerful smile, “Aww, lighten up! Don’t worry, Muku-chan made sure that I stayed caught up while I was away. She’s such a good sister like that!”

Mukuro ignored the heaviness growing in her throat, and stared down at her desk. Her nails dug into the wood, and she dragged them in a line, making the gauge in the desk deeper and deeper. She couldn’t listen to this conversation, she would  _ choke. _

“How was Sweden?” Oogami inquired. When met with a confused noise from Junko, she added, “I… follow you on Instagram.”

Junko clasped her hands, “Oh! It was so much fun. It was so cold there though, and I totally wasn’t expecting that. If you ever like, travel there yourself, make sure you bring warm clothes! I was freezing my butt off.”

Oogami replied, “I will do my best to remember that.”

Bile rose in Mukuro’s throat. She slammed her eyes shut, and dug her nails back into the grooves she had worn in the wood. Hearing Junko talk so casually, so  _ normally,  _ made her feel so ill. She’d been putting on the bubbly and slightly ditzy facade ever since she arrived at the school so as not to arise suspicion, but Mukuro could hardly handle it. She sounded so  _ fake _ when she chattered on like an average high school student, and it made Mukuro uneasy just thinking about it.

Luckily for her, the classroom door opened just after that. Asahina and Fujisaki had arrived at almost the same time, and were both currently pushing into the classroom. Asahina ran straight for Oogami, casting quick hellos at the others, before perching on a desk and talking to her best friend.

Fujisaki, on the other hand, quietly approached Mukuro. Their face seemed oddly more downcast than usual, as if the familiar sight of the classroom was a burden.

At least Mukuro could relate to their nervousness.

Fujisaki said softly, “A-Ah, good morning. Are you doing w-well today, Ikusaba-san?”

Mukuro shrugged, hoping that her discomfort wasn’t showing, “As well as I can on a day like this. I was studying all night, and I had to help Junko-chan since… since she just came back from Sweden.”

The lie tasted bitter in her mouth. She and Junko had been to Sweden together once, but that was way back when they were thirteen. That had also been the year when Mukuro ran off to join Fenrir, and she had taken the opportunity to leave during the vacation. Mukuro didn't like thinking about Sweden. It wasn't even nice there. 

Fujisaki nodded absently, looking a tad bit lost. Mukuro wondered why they had come over to talk, before something hit her. Before the Ryouko Otonashi Project began, Junko had left the young programmer with blueprints for what she said was a mascot idea.

Of course, Mukuro knew the truth. A walking talking bear with a fully functional AI inside of it? She was amazed that nobody had caught on that they had a separate agenda. Monokuma was no mere mascot. 

“Is the prototype ready?” Mukuro asked, hoping to sound casual. Fujisaki nodded fiercely in answer, and Mukuro added, “Great. When can I pick it up?”

Fujisaki said, “I n-need to check it over so… come by my r-room at three fifteen?”

Mukuro replied, “I’ll be there. See you then, Fujisaki.”

They dipped their head, and quickly scurried on. Mukuro returned to scratching her nails on her desk. Junko would be pleased to know that the prototype was ready. Pleased to know that she was one step closer to unleashing despair on the entire world. Mukuro bit down on her lip so hard that it began to bleed.

The door slid open again. Maizono entered this time, looking tired. She waved politely to the others, and sat down at her desk beside Mukuro. The soldier quickly made sure she was looking down at the notes, unsure of why her heart was suddenly beating so quickly.

Maizono whispered, “Hey, good morning. Did those notes help?”

Mukuro looked over, and forced a smile. She could still hear Junko’s artificial tone in the background, and her lips twitched. She couldn’t grimace, couldn’t give any sign that Junko’s exterior was nothing more than a well constructed lie. The words she tried to speak grew heavy in her throat.

“Ikusaba-chan?” Maizono prompted, “Sorry, you don’t look very well. Is everything okay?”

Mukuro shook herself, “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well. The notes were incredibly helpful, thank you for helping me out.”

She hoped that her cover would be enough to deceive Maizono. It wasn’t a very well thought out story, but the idol’s concerned gaze softened as soon as the words were out of Mukuro’s mouth. She relaxed in turn.

Maizono said gently, “I’m glad I could help. Try and get some rest later, maybe go to sleep early? Ah, the point is, I hope you feel better soon!”

She was too kind. Mukuro felt slightly more at ease listening to her. Something about Maizono’s calm disposition was enough to keep her from getting sick. As long as she didn’t have to listen to Junko talk, Mukuro figured that she could last through the day.

She had gotten used to Ryouko being around. Ryouko didn’t know who she was, but she was still cheerful and thoughtful. Mukuro missed the genuine nature of Ryouko, even though she was just Junko, deep down inside. Occasionally during the project, Mukuro wondered if Junko had behaved like that when the two of them were children. She couldn’t remember herself. Mukuro hated thinking about her childhood.

Mukuro cast a glance around the classroom again. During her talk with Maizono, Naegi had arrived in the class, and was now chattering away with Asahina. Kirigiri was opening the door at that very second, but nothing else had changed. Mukuro bit down on the inside of her lip again, and stared down at the notes. She didn’t move to look up again that morning.

-

Class had been easier than she had initially predicted.

Kizakura had been late to class - supposedly held up in a meeting, but the smell of Alka-Seltzer fresh on his breath told everyone the truth - and his quiz had been simple. Mukuro had hardly needed the notes she had asked for. The rest of the day was boring lecture notes like usual. Kizakura wasn’t particularly skilled at coming up with unique lesson plans.

As soon as class let out, Mukuro met up with Junko. She had dropped her sugary mask, much to Mukuro’s relief. 

Junko hissed, “I’m dealing with some ‘loose ends.’ So to speak, anyways. What are you doing again?”

Mukuro replied, “I’m meeting with Fujisaki to obtain the prototype, and possibly the blueprints. ...You said loose ends?”

Junko nodded, a gleeful smirk playing on her lips, “Have you noticed that Yukizome-sensei and her friends are suspicious of us? After the student council incident, we became prime suspects. So I’m off to deal with her, her husband, and that security guard guy."

Mukuro raised an eyebrow, “Yukizome-sensei is married? She’s only a couple years older than us.”

Junko shrugged, “She might as well be married, with the way she talks. Have you heard her when she’s in her office? She’s constantly ‘Kyosuke’ this and ‘Kyosuke’ that! It makes me sick.”

The name sounded a little familiar. Mukuro asked, “Isn’t that-”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Junko snapped.

_ But you stopped talking… _

Junko continued, “According to the faculty list I… found… his name is Kyosuke Munakata. He works overseas building what’s supposed to eventually be a western Hope’s Peak. He holds a lot of influence over the headmaster… and he’s very close with Yukizome-sensei and the head security guard. I forget his name.”

Mukuro asked, “If he’s overseas, how are you going to deal with him?”

Junko waved her hand, “Don’t worry about that. I have everything under control. Just get the prototype and text me when you do, okay?”

Mukuro nodded, “Okay, I will. See you later, then.”

“Eh,” Junko shrugged, “If you’re lucky, maybe.”

She left Mukuro on that note. Mukuro slumped against the wall, and took a deep breath. After calming her breathing, she glanced at her watch. There was still enough time for her to go to the dorms and reach Fujisaki. With that goal, she sprinted out.

-

“Come in!”

Mukuro turned the cold door handle, and pushed into the programmer’s room. It was small yet cosy inside. Fujisaki was perched on a stool at their desk, typing away furiously. What Mukuro assumed was Monokuma was sitting on the desk. It was roughly the size of a plump dog, and looked even better than Yamada’s miniature beta model had.

Fujisaki turned, and greeted her with a smile, “S-Sorry about the mess. I didn’t have much c-chance to clean up before y-you arrived.”

Mukuro shrugged, “It’s no matter to me. Is that… the mascot prototype?” It took all her will not to say Monokuma. That would have set off too many alarm bells for her to silence.

Fujisaki nodded, beaming from ear to ear, “Isn’t he cute? He’s a l-little rough looking, but it adds to h-his charm!”

Mukuro picked the bear up. It wasn’t heavy, but there was a definite weight in its middle. She cast a glance at Fujisaki, who quickly said, “Oh! Enoshima-san told me that he needed to be able to m-move about. That’s where his motor is! I’m w-working on implanting a first generation AI, but he c-can be controlled remotely with this!”

They presented Mukuro with a small controller, and she examined it closely. Fujisaki said, “Those are his basic controls. There’s a-also a microphone built into that, so he can speak. Do… do you like him?”

Mukuro flashed an awkward smile, “It’s perfect. Thank you very much for helping us out. Could you by any chance spare the blueprints? Junko-chan wants to examine them.”

Fujisaki nodded, and produced them for Mukuro. She rolled them up tightly, and gave a sharp nod in response to the programmer. With the blueprints and the bear, she left the room.

Outside in the hall, Mukuro rummaged for her phone, and sent off a text to Junko. Surprisingly, she got a reply less than a minute later. Junko usually took ages to respond.

**Mukuro:** I’ve got the prototype and the blueprints. Where do you want them?

**Junko-chan:** gr8!!! Drop them off in my room i’ll send them off 4 duplication later

**Mukuro:** Sure thing. How are your loose ends?

**Junko-chan:** mr. security guard is under control lmao. I’ll get on yukizome-sensei & her powdered suit asap

**Junko-chan:** btw!! can u pick up some pink dye 4 me ?? i wanna dip dye the ends again

**Mukuro:** After I drop off the bear, I’ll go get it.

**Junko-chan:** gr8! seeya l8er nerd

Mukuro stuffed her phone back in her jacket pocket, and then headed off to Junko’s room. She had a key for her sister’s room, just as Junko one one for hers. She unlocked the door, and put Monokuma and the blueprints on Junko’s bed. Before she set off to the drug store near campus, Mukuro took a look around Junko’s room.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but at the same time, Mukuro couldn’t help but feel unsettled. Something about the normal aura the room gave off was too much, considering that the room’s owner was hardly a typical teenage girl.

“Stop it,” Mukuro muttered to herself, “It’s not worth getting upset about.”

Her hands brushed her pockets for her wallet. She found it, and gave it a quick squeeze, then left Junko’s room as quickly as she could.

-

The drug store smelled like soap.

Mukuro sniffed a couple times as she sifted through the shelves of cheap hair dye. She’d gotten the hair bleach here, so there was no reason that she couldn’t find Junko’s favourite shade of bubblegum pink as well. She finally found a box that looked close enough to what she usually bought, and picked it up.

As she turned it over in her hands, she heard a familiar voice, “Ikusaba-chan?”

Mukuro turned, and blinked when she saw Maizono. The idol was holding a similar box of dye in her hands, though the colour was a brilliant shade of blue. She said, “Uh, hey, Maizono-san. I didn’t know that you dyed your hair.”

She laughed, “Did you really think that my hair was  _ naturally _ blue?”

Mukuro stammered, “A-Ah, no… I meant that… Don’t you have a professional stylist?”

“I do! But that’s for really big dye jobs. I just need a quick touchup before my dress rehearsal tonight,” Maizono said, leaning forwards, “My roots are showing again.”

Mukuro said, “Okay, I get you. I’m buying this for Junko-chan… She wants to dip dye again.”

Maizono said, “I see… I didn’t take you for the kind to dye your hair. But I bet you’d look great!”

Mukuro replied, “I really don’t think so. I’m really not one for that kind of thing.”

Maizono held up a finger, and then pressed a box into Mukuro’s other hand. At first, Mukuro assumed it to be a box of crayons, but a closer look ruled that out instantly. The idol said, “This is hair chalk! If you’re not super keen on something permanent, this makes a great temporary look. It comes out with water, but it looks really nice! So uh… don’t use it if you think it’ll rain.”

Mukuro said, “I don’t think it would look good on me, honestly. I’m better off with my natural colour.”

"Really? I bet with a colourful little streak right there-" she ran a finger down Mukuro's bangs- "you'd look cute! I mean, you're super cute as it is, but the streak would make you... striking."

Mukuro smiled shyly, her cheeks blushing.

Maizono added, "But then again, what do I know? I look like a bluebell. See you around, Ikusaba-chan!”

"Bye..." Mukuro whispered, waving as she raced away. She waited a moment, as Maizono made her purchase, and looked down at the boxes in her hands.

When she approached the register, Mukuro still had the box of hair chalk with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter spoilers ahead) 
> 
> warning for physical and verbal abuse in the first scene, as well as emetophobia in the last paragraph of the first scene, and the first paragraph of the second scene. stay safe <3

There was a seafoam green cue card stuck in between the door and its frame when Mukuro approached Junko’s room.

That was her cue to knock on the door, in case that Junko was in the midst of something important. Junko had developed the ‘cue card system’ back when they were seven. Mukuro could hardly keep track of what they all meant, but the green one was easy. 

Junko yelled, “If it's Muku-chan, you can come in!”

Mukuro turned the doorknob and pushed inside, catching the cue card before it hit the ground. She approached Junko, who was lying down on her bed, and pulled the box of pink dye out of the plastic grocery bag she was carrying. 

Junko sat up, took the box, and skeptically flipped it over in her hands a few times, “This isn't my usual brand, huh?”

“They were out of the one you really like,” Mukuro replied. She braced herself for backlash, for Junko to scream at her until she shattered, but her sister only shrugged. 

“That’s a bummer. Can you get the door, Muku-chan? I want to talk about our upcoming… project,” Junko said carefully, just in case anyone in the hallways could hear them. Mukuro nodded, and quickly shut the door. Junko waited one moment to let the silence sink in, then said, “We’re getting to the thick of it. There’s just one stretch, and then we’ll plunge this hopeful earth into despair!”

Mukuro smiled weakly. Junko seemed enthused, which was a good sign. In fact, she was almost bouncing with excitement now. Her smile was so wide and bright, and Mukuro’s heart panged. Despair hadn’t always been her sister’s dream. She wondered when Junko had changed.

She glanced around the room, suddenly realizing that something was missing, “Junko-chan? What happened to Monokuma?”

Junko replied, “Oh, him? I sent him and his blueprints off to a friend to be replicated. We’re gonna have hundreds and hundreds of bears!”

“But he’s only a prototype,” Mukuro said, “Fujisaki even mentioned that they haven’t had a chance to add the first generation AI to him like you said you wanted.”

Junko waved her hand, “Don’t worry about that! Souda-senpai said that he’d return the prototype once he finished making us an army.”

Mukuro blinked, “Souda-senpai? From Class 77?”

Junko nodded, “Yeah! He’s offered to help us out a little. Of course, he doesn’t know the extent of our plans, not just yet. I can’t wait for them to all turn to despair, little by little… I want to watch their expressions as they finally experience it.”

“What… happened to just brainwashing them?” Mukuro asked. 

Junko’s smile turned into a pissed scowl, “You’re so fucking stupid! Of course I’m still going to brainwash them. Do you really think I have the kind of time that I can just manipulate  _ every single one of them  _ into becoming Ultimate Despair? What kind of fuckwit do you take me for?!”

Mukuro backed away, holding up her hands defensively, “I swear, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Yes you fucking did, you stupid  _ bitch! _ ” Junko screamed, “You think you’re so goddamn clever, Muku-chan. Well guess what? You’re just as fucking moronic as the rest of this shitty ass planet, and if you weren’t my family, I’d have killed you long ago. You’re so fucking useless, you can’t even buy the right brand of  _ hair dye! _ ”

She shoved Mukuro violently into the wall. The soldier trembled for a second, then fell to her knees. She had closed her fingers into tight fists, but they shook at her sides. Junko hit Mukuro again, this time across the face. She only had enough time to thank the fact that she didn’t bruise easily before she was struck for the third time.

Junko snarled, “I bet you’re enjoying this. This is why I can’t stand you, all you do is fuck everything up for everyone else, and then feel  _ joy _ when people get mad. Listen to me! Fucking LISTEN TO ME!” She screeched, slamming her palms to Mukuro’s cheeks, and slamming her head against the wall, “You’re such a goddamn attention whore, and you’ve never done anything to deserve it! Nobody fucking loves you, and nobody ever  _ fucking will! _ ”

She kneed Mukuro in the stomach, and she collapsed on the floor. Junko didn’t stop there, she began kicking her as hard as she could with her pointed toe high heels. Mukuro slammed her eyes shut, but tears came out anyways as the heels made contact with her skin again and again and again. She could just barely choke out a wretched sob in between impacts, before the wind was knocked out of her once more.

Eventually, Junko growled, “Get out of my fucking room. I don’t want to see your ugly self again today. Get out!”

Mukuro scrambled to her feet, but not before she felt Junko’s fake nails close around her skin. Her sister whispered, “And don’t even  _ think _ of running off for help. You only have  _ me.” _

She released her, and Mukuro ran. She ran out the door, across the hall, into her own room, and then into the bathroom. She quivered all over, as she looked over herself in the mirror. Ugly purple and black bruises crawled up her legs, complimented by the faint hint of blood.

Mukuro stared at her reflection for a few moments, silently taking in every aspect of her worthless, imperfect existence, then violently threw up on the bathroom tile.

-

It took over two hours for Mukuro to clean her bathroom. Every time the stench of vomit got near her nose, her stomach lurched again. She shook as she worked, freezing every time her fingers slipped off the torn rag, and touched the sludge. By the time she was finished, her fingers were raw. The ugly smell still remained, and no amount of dollar store air fresheners would be enough to make it go away.

Mukuro stared at herself in the mirror, chalk in one hand, and a damp cloth in the other. Junko had left the plastic bag with the box in front of her door at some point, though Mukuro didn’t remember dropping it in the first place. She had tried a few colours as per Maizono’s suggestion, but nothing seemed to fit her.

More than anything, she looked like Junko’s scene phase.

Eventually, Mukuro shoved the chalk back in the box, carefully pulled off her clothes so not to aggravate her bruises, and stepped into her shower. The water at her feet changed colours a few times as it washed the remaining dust out of her bangs, before it went down the drain.

Mukuro pressed her forehead to the rocky wall tile, letting the watery bullets hit her back and run down her legs. Slowly, she calmed her breathing, as the steamy air released the tension that had grown in her forehead. Her eyes fluttered wearily, the feeling of warmth too much.

Slowly, she sat down on the slippery floor, and pulled her knees to her chest. She didn't move a muscle until the water turned cold, and the pressure lessened. By that point, she had nearly fallen asleep three times. Mukuro reached up and turned the water off, but she remained on the floor of the tiny shower stall for just a while longer. 

-

In Fenrir, the nights were long and cold. Many a time, Mukuro had to sleep in a snow coated fox hole, in order to survive the night. So despite having survived the heinous conditions, she was unable to sleep in a warm, soft bed.

According to the clock on her nightstand, it was nearing one in the morning. The skies were clear, and moonlight shone in through her thin curtains, casting shadows on the ground. Mukuro lay on her side, watching the shadows change ever so slightly, before throwing her quilt off, and kicking her sheets away. 

She approached the window slowly, then all at once, and tucked the curtains to the side. It was oddly still, but it may have had to do with the late hour. Mukuro wasn't entirely sure. She stared out at the grounds for a few minutes, hands pressed against her windowsill. Something about the night was inviting her her, and she soon couldn't resist its call.

“Fuck it,” Mukuro said, pushing away from the window and towards the foot of her bed. She snatched her jacket that she had haphazardly left there, and pulled it on over her pajamas. Then she slipped into her combat boots, grateful that she’d slept in socks, grabbed her gloves off of the dresser and left. 

She didn't bother locking the door. Nobody would be looking for her, not at this hour. She could feel the weight of her phone in her jacket pocket, so if Junko tried to reach her, she could respond quickly. With her gloves now pulled tightly over her hands, Mukuro exited the hallway that contained the girls dorms.

The glass walkway that separated the girls dormitory from the boys was deathly silent. Frost covered glass, preventing Mukuro from taking a moment to look at the ground below. She didn't really mind. Mukuro hated heights. 

She arrived in the hall that lead to the boys dormitory, and stopped. Ishimaru often made night time patrols, but she figured that it was too late for even him to be around. She hesitated a moment longer, then pushed open the back foot, and descended the staircase. 

The only sounds outside were of Mukuro's own footsteps, and the occasional hoot of a passing owl. It was a little chillier than she had expected, but she gritted her teeth and continued walking. She had lived through tougher conditions in Fenrir. 

There was a concrete bench near a statue of the school's founder, and Mukuro sat down there. She rubbed her hands together, trying to keep them from freezing inside the leather, as she watched her surroundings. The night was breathtakingly beautiful, though annoyingly cold. 

Mukuro got lost watching the stars, or at least, she later told herself that she did. It was her only excuse for not hearing the footsteps or seeing the nearby shadows until it was too late for her. 

“Ikusaba-san? What are you doing out here?”

Mukuro went stiff as she locked eyes with a very concerned and confused Chisa Yukizome. She was leaning over slightly, her long brown hair falling over one shoulder.

“I’m very sorry,” Mukuro said quickly, “I’ll head back to my room right away. Please forgive me.”

Yukizome tilted her head slightly, and then sat down on the cold concrete next to Mukuro, “No, it’s alright. Are you okay? You seem… very distressed.”

Mukuro lied, “I was just hoping to not be caught out after curfew. I’ve never had a detention before and I… I don’t make a habit of sneaking out at night.”

Yukizome reached out, likely to rub Mukuro’s shoulder, but dropped her arm when she pulled away. Instead, she said, “Please don’t worry, I won’t write you up if it’s just this time. Why are you out here, though? The riots have been getting worse, it’s really not safe to be out by yourself.”

“You’re out here,” Mukuro said simply, crossing her arms.

Yukizome laughed quietly, “I’m a teacher. It’s my job to protect my students, and if it comes at the cost of my life, then so be it.”

Mukuro’s mind flashed to Class 77’s eventual brainwashing. It suddenly then made perfect sense why Junko had called Yukizome a loose end - she could expose and stop their plan before it even began. Perhaps that’s why she was outside. Junko had said that she was suspicious of them. Mukuro wanted to believe that Yukizome had stopped and talked to her out of the goodness in her heart, but she suddenly felt much sicker than she had inside.

“Ikusaba-san?” Yukizome prompted, “You don’t look very well. If you’re feeling off-colour, we should get you back inside. Your health is important!”

Mukuro hand waved her, “I’m fine, honestly. W-Why did you stop to talk to me? I mean… I’m certain there’s other students out here at this hour. You don’t even teach me.”

Yukizome said gently, “You’re still a student here. I care very much for everyone, even if I’m not in charge of them. I want you all to grow up to be wonderful people.”

Mukuro’s stomach lurched. Yukizome was so  _ pure _ in every sense of the word. Junko had often expressed that she hated her, and now she knew why. Yukizome was an embodiment of nice things, she was simply too good for this planet.

And Junko was going to hurt her.

Yukizome added, “But… I did have an ulterior motive for sitting down with you.”

Mukuro looked over at her, trying not to show how nervous she was. Her heart palpitated in her chest, but she managed to keep a calm expression, “O-Oh?” She cursed her tone for wavering.

“Your sister… Enoshima-san, correct?” Yukizome asked. When Mukuro nodded, she continued, “I so hate to say this to someone so close to her, but I think she’s up to something. The school suspects that she’s been involved in some… very bad recent events, and with the evidence, I’m inclined to agree. But I thought it would be best to ask you, as you know her better than anyone.”

Truthfully, Mukuro wasn’t sure if she knew Junko at all anymore.

She spoke slowly, “I don’t understand why she’s being suspected of wrongdoing. Sure, Junko-chan enjoys a practical joke every so often, and she’s not very serious about her studies, but she’s still a good person. I don’t see how the school has  _ any _ evidence against her… especially considering that she just got back from Sweden a few nights ago.”

The lies tasted rotten in her mouth, but Yukizome was fooled. That was the problem with good people - they believed everything that you told them.

Yukizome said, “Of course, what was I thinking? I hadn’t realized that she was out of the country… I’m sorry for accusing her like that. You two are obviously very close.”

Mukuro smiled weakly, “Thick as thieves.”

“Let’s get you inside,” Yukizome replied, “It’s late, it’s cold, and you look like you’re about to pass out. I’ll come with you to your room, if you’d like.”

Mukuro shook her head, “I’ll be fine. Thank you very much for the offer, Yukizome-sensei… And thank you for keeping quiet about me breaking curfew.”

Yukizome said, “It’ll be our secret. Now go, before I chase you back in!”

Mukuro waved, and then ran down the path she had arrived on. She didn’t stop running until she was back in her room, and she slumped against the door.

Yukizome had been suspicious of Junko, and the faculty still was. Time was running out.

She curled up in a tight ball on the floor, where she slept soundly until the first rays of morning light came in through her window, alerting her that a new day was ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

“I need a favour,” Junko said, leaning forwards with her hands on her hips. 

Mukuro pressed her lips together. It had been over a week since their fight, and during that time, Mukuro had stayed away from Junko, hoping that it would ease her anger. It must have worked, because Junko was acting as if the incident had never happened.

She responded, “What is it?” Her stomach lurched at the thought of another night like the student council massacre. 

Junko giggled, holding her hand over her face, “It's time for the appetizers, Muku-chan! Class 77-B is just about ready to be brainwashed!”

Mukuro bit the inside of her lip. She didn’t think that it was already that time, but it unfortunately made sense. She took a glance outside, to see a storm of rain pouring down. Her fists clenched at her sides, but she quickly released them and said, “What do I have to do, then?”

“Remember that security room I set up in the old school building a while back?” When Mukuro nodded, Junko said, “Well, I need you to head up there, and then put on the headset I prepared. I’ll give you the rest of the instructions from there.”

Mukuro replied, “I understand. Should I leave now, or do you need more time?”

Junko threw an umbrella at her, “No, just go. Oh, and do me and everyone else a quick favour. Try not to be seen.”

“W-Why?” Mukuro asked, pulling on her jacket.

Junko smirked, “It’ll make things a lot easier. You want to see their despair just as much as I do, right?”

Though she wasn’t sure anymore, Mukuro instantly agreed, “Right.”

Junko patted her gently on the head, “Good girl! Now hurry up and get to that security station! You’re going to play a  _ very _ important role today!”

Mukuro’s heart swelled, and she smiled, “Okay! I’ll do my very best, I promise.”

“You’d better!” Junko replied. Her voice was cheery, but it contained the unmistakable scent of a threat, just in case Mukuro thought she could get away with failing.

-

The old school building was quiet and dusty. Mukuro sneezed a few times as she made her way through the building. It wasn’t a particularly large building, but due to the darkness, Mukuro found herself walking in circles. She fished her phone out, and turned on the flashlight function. A dim light lit up the floor in front of her, but it was better than before.

She made her way out of the dormitory, up the stairs, and onto the second floor. Bits of light came in through the windows, and the occasional lightning strike made the whole hallway gleam a bright white. Mukuro clicked off the flashlight, and shoved her phone back in her pocket. In no time, she made it to the data centre on the fourth floor.

The room was small, but the security station that was hidden behind a round, metal door was tiny. Massive monitors took up the whole wall, and the control panel stretched halfway across the room. Mukuro slid into the leather chair, taking a deep breath as she did so. The headset that Junko had mentioned earlier sat on top of the control panel. Mukuro stared at it with contempt in her eyes for a couple seconds, then slipped it on. 

She fiddled with it for a couple seconds, before she realized that she could hear Junko muttering to herself on the other end. Mukuro tapped on the microphone once, then said, “Junko-chan? Can you hear me?”

Junko gasped, “Muku-chan! I was getting worried about you. Are the monitors all working?”

Mukuro scanned the screens. All of them were on, showcasing various areas of the school and grounds. Nothing on them moved. 

“All clear,” Mukuro responded, “Where are you?”

Junko said, “I’m right outside the classroom on the second floor. I should be on Monitor Nine. Can you see me?”

Mukuro looked over at the screen. There was nothing there but an awkwardly angled shot of a wooden door, “No, I can’t. Where are you standing?”

Junko didn’t respond verbally, but instead moved out in front of the camera and waved at it, bouncing up and down on her heels as she did so.

“Now I do,” Mukuro chuckled, a small smile on her face.

Junko said, “Great! Okay, you see Monitor One? The one pointed at the elevator?”

If she hadn’t said so, Mukuro would have never guessed that the silver doors were of an elevator, “I do. What do I need to do?”

Junko replied, “I’m going to be leading Nanami-senpai there. When we get close enough, hit the button on the control panel that opens it! ...I don’t know which one that is, so you’ll have to experiment until you get it right.”

Mukuro gulped. There were hundreds of buttons in front of her.

Junko said, “Okay! I’m going in, so find that button, and quickly! This is like, super important, so don’t fuck this up for me!”

Mukuro whispered, “G-Got it…”

She began pushing buttons at random. Most of them didn’t do anything, as far as she could tell. Some made various lights turn on or off, while others just made a silly sound. One made duck noises, and particularly good ones. Mukuro stared at the small yellow button for a second, then pressed it again, letting the sound of ducks fill the room once more.

Mukuro pressed the duck button a few more times, then resumed her search for the button that operated the elevator door.

Meanwhile, she could hear Junko’s conversation through her headset. The voices of the people she was talking to were muffled, but it was clear enough for Mukuro to discern.

“Hey, hey!” that was Junko’s voice, hideously fake and falsely concerned, “I need help! Please, it’s an emergency!”

(The small green button next to the duck button caused rave lights to flash in the security room.)

A voice that Mukuro could not recognize responded, “What’s wrong? Can I help you at all?”

(A large red button off on the right side of the panel made the chair Mukuro was sitting in spin around.)

She could visualize the crocodile tears running down Junko’s face, “It’s t-terrible, Nanami-senpai! I don't k-know if I can handle it!”

“Please calm down!” the other person responded. Mukuro assumed that the voice belonged to Nanami, the class representative of Class 77-B. Nanami said, “What's going on? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong… I think.”

(One of the blue buttons played Sandstorm by Darude when pressed. Mukuro frowned at the button, unable to turn it off.)

Junko sniffed a few times, before whispering, “It's my precious sister… Muku-chan is missing and I d-don't know what I’m going to do! I have to find her!”

Nanami replied, “Where did you see her last?”

(A rectangular green button played a screaming noise. Mukuro sighed quietly.)

Junko blubbered, “S-She went through a d-door underground, and then I n-never saw her again! Please, Nanami-senpai! I’m b-begging you!”

Nanami said, “Okay, I’ll help you. Can you take me to where you were when she disappeared?”

“Y-Yes!” Junko cried, “Bless your heart!”

Mukuro rolled her eyes and gagged. She couldn’t listen to Junko’s act for much longer, or she’d be sick. It was hilarious how the magazines loved Junko for being ‘real’ when all they saw was a carefully constructed facade.

Absentmindedly, she clicked a button on the panel, and the elevator doors slid open, revealing an empty shaft. Mukuro hit the button again to close them, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

Junko suddenly hissed, “Hey, Muku-chan, you there? Did you find the button?”

Mukuro replied quickly, “Yes, I did. Are you on your way?”

“Yeah. Also, quick question,” Junko said, “Why the fuck did you press the duck button  _ eight times in a row?” _

Mukuro muttered, “I thought it was funny…”

Nanami’s faint voice interrupted them, “Enoshima-san? Who are you talking to?”

Junko instantly switched back to her false persona, and Mukuro cringed. She felt as if her ears would begin to bleed if she listened to Junko do that for much longer, “O-Oh! Sorry, Nanami-senpai… I talk to myself when I g-get scared. I c-can try and stop though!”

Nanami responded gently, “No, I don’t mind. Let’s keep going, okay? We’re sure to find your sister.”

Junko sniffled, “T-Thank you so much! You’re so sweet! I mean, t-taking time to help someone like me…”

“Don’t demean yourself!” Nanami exclaimed, “All human lives are worth something, especially your own! I know things are difficult for you right now, but you must stay strong! You’re a good person, Enoshima-san, I promise!”

Mukuro ripped the headset off, and desperately looked around the room. Her eyes found a garbage can in the corner, and she raced over towards it. She vomited, her stomach heaving as her throat caught fire. Her hands gripped the tiny plastic bag that covered the can, and she shook.

Slowly, bile still heavy in her throat, Mukuro got to her feet, and moved back to the leather chair. She took a deep, shaky breath, then pulled the headset back on. In the time that it had taken her to return, Junko and Nanami had appeared on Monitor One.

“So this is where you last saw your sister?” Nanami asked, looking around the room, “What exactly were you two doing down here?”

Junko replied, “It was here. And we were just exploring is all… She just went through that door up there, and then I n-never saw her again.”

Nanami approached the elevator door. Mukuro’s fingers hovered over the elevator button, until Junko hissed, “Now!”

She slammed her hand down, and the door slid open. Nanami only had time to blink in confusion before Junko shoved her down into the elevator shaft. There was a sickening crunch, and she screamed out in pain.

Junko giggled, and waved at her, “No hard feelings, Nanami-senpai! Don’t worry, I’ll be back for you later!”

“ _ W-What?!” _ That was all Mukuro heard before she closed the elevator door again.

“Did you hear her? ‘All human lives are worth something!’” Junko mocked, “What fucking garbage. She sounded like a Hallmark card.”

“Complete bullshit,” Mukuro agreed, swallowing the stomach acid that had found its way into her mouth. Her head was spinning, and spots were appearing on the walls. Even when she blinked, they didn’t quite vanish. She needed to eat. It had been two days since she’d done that.

Junko continued, “She should be on Monitor Seven. Can you see her?”

Mukuro shook her head a few times, clearing her vision, and found the screen. Nanami was sitting on the ground, holding her head between her hands.

“Yeah, I can,” Mukuro confirmed.

Junko replied, “Okay, great. Now, I’m going to get the others. You don’t have to do anything until they’re in the courtroom, and all you’ll have to do is press the button right above the elevator one. I pre recorded the video, so you can just sit back and relax!”

Mukuro smiled weakly, even though Junko couldn’t see her, “Okay.”

She followed Junko’s instructions and leaned back in the chair. Mukuro half listened to Junko’s conversation with the rest of Class 77-B, where she claimed that she was with Nanami when she got grabbed by some shady looking people. Halfway through her explanation, Mukuro shut her eyes, and focused on the sound of the rain slamming against the roof. It reminded her of nights in Fenrir trenches, as she narrowly survived endless bouts of shelling.

She could almost feel the rain against her skin, and the dirt that turned to mud beneath her feet. The gentle sound of explosions passed through her head, lulling her into a strange sense of security.  _ Fuck, _ she missed Fenrir, and she missed the danger. More than anything, she wanted to be back in the thrill of the fight, she wanted to be in  _ control  _ of herself.

Because here, she was a pawn. Here, she was not a human being.

(And a sick, twisted part of her deep down liked that.)

Junko’s voice startled her out of her thoughts, “Muku-chan! Are you ready? They’re on their way to the courtroom now!”

Mukuro snapped to attention, and found the button above the one that opened the elevator doors. She hovered her hand above it, and hissed back, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I’m just waiting for them to get inside.”

Junko replied, “Okay, great. I’ll meet you in the data centre real soon!”

Mukuro didn’t reply, but instead pressed the button when she saw the class gathered in the courtroom on Monitor Fifteen.

A door opened over on Monitor Seven, where Nanami was waiting. A screen with Junko’s face on it appeared, finally showing her real smile.

“You might be wondering, why would Enoshima-san do that to you? Well, that’s obvious!” The video said, “It’s because I’m actually not the Super High-School Level Model… I’m Ultimate Despair!”

Mukuro smiled, and cast a glance back to the courtroom. The other fifteen of them seemed to be in a state of panic, as they pointed wildly at the screens in the rooftop. She turned back to the other monitor to see Nanami trudging along nervously, only to leap back when she was nearly skewered by a sword that instead only slashed her arm.

Her eyes had gone wide with terror, and she gripped her bleeding arm.

Was this true despair? Was this what Junko had been trying so desperately to show her?

“Hey, there you are!” Junko exclaimed from behind her, “Enjoying your front row seat to the festivities?”

Mukuro spun around, “It’s... “

Junko cut in, “Amazing? Breathtaking?  _ Despair inducing?”  _

“All of those,” Mukuro decided, figuring that was the safest answer.

Junko rushed forwards, and patted Mukuro gently on the head, “I’m so proud! Now, let’s get to the main course! Turn on the volume!”

She slid a switch upwards, and the sound of Nanami’s ragged breathing echoed into the room, as well as the distressed cries of her classmates.

And as Mukuro watched Nanami struggled for life, watched spears pierce her legs, as saws and arrows flew by and hit her, a strange feeling came over her. She had never quite felt this way before, not once in her life.

Meanwhile, the cries from the courtroom were slowly changing from ones of outrage, to cheers. Mukuro’s lip trembled as she watched. Smiles grew on their faces, and a few of them began to drool.

This, Mukuro supposed, was the brainwashing that Junko had been talking about. As they watched their beloved classmate die, they slowly began to enjoy it. That was true despair.

(and Mukuro was  _ captivated. _ )

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Junko murmured, a delicate smile painting her face.

A warm smile filled her face from ear to ear. Mukuro leaned back in the leather security booth chair, enjoying the show. All the while, the bloodcurdling screams of Chiaki Nanami grew fainter and fainter, until she was no more.

-

The dungeon smelled of blood.

It was pitch black down there, excluding the light from Mukuro’s flashlight. She’d been ordered to dispose of Nanami’s body before her flesh began rotting.

Her shoes made a squelching noise every time they hit the ground. Somewhere along the way, she’d accidentally stepped in blood, and now her feet were soaked. It wasn’t so bad, though. Despair could be found in the most surprising places.

The room where Nanami lay was large and circular. She was face down in an enormous pool of her own blood, one arm stretched out. Someone stood before her, their legs trembling. Mukuro moved her flashlight to illuminate them, and then blinked.

“Kamukura?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “What are you doing down here?”

Izuru Kamukura, the product of human experimentation at the school, turned to her. His face displayed tear stains, though his expression was as blank as usual. He closed his fist around a small object, then spoke, “Your sister told me that she was down here, should I want to see her.”

Mukuro said, “I thought she was boring.”

_ Then again, everything is boring to you, isn't it?  _

He took a breath, then said, “Yes.” Kamukura seemed to think that that was a sufficient end to the conversation, and began to walk away. 

Mukuro waited for him to leave, then shoved her flashlight into her mouth, and dragged Nanami’s now cold corpse away.

-

When Mukuro returned from Fenrir, she had taken a photo of Junko, cheerful and enthused about the idea of despair. She still had that photo, now worn with age, and she clutched it tightly in her fingers. She was seated on her bed, legs crossed.

Her whole body shuddered as she lightly ran a finger across Junko’s face in the ripped photograph she held. Mukuro’s eyes were wide with glee. She had never felt so truly alive before this moment. Perhaps it was the adrenaline still rushing through her veins, causing her fingers to tremble. Perhaps it was the incredibly late hour - nearing three in the morning. Perhaps it was a combination of the two, but it was most likely something else entirely.

“It’s beautiful…” Mukuro whispered, stroking the crinkled photograph, “You always told me how truly gorgeous despair was, but I never believed you.”

Wind blew in through the open window, tossing the curtains aside, and allowing moonlight to flood the room. Mukuro tightened her grip around the photograph, but didn’t move otherwise.

“You showed me… the true meaning of despair,” Mukuro murmured, “And you let me despair… I was so ungrateful to you. I had no idea what kind of gift you were giving me."

The wind blew harder, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms. Mukuro grinned from ear to ear, quivering.

“It’s your turn now…” the words were hidden under her breath, so quiet that she could barely hear them herself, “I want to see you despair, Junko-chan. You’ve always fed off the despair of others… so I want you to be able to finally feel it yourself.”

The air was ice cold. Her breaths came out in little clouds. She traced Junko’s cheekbones in the picture, her face twitching.

“It’s only fair… isn’t it… sis?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! Thank you to everyone who's encouraged me so far! Be warned for multiple descriptions and use of needles in this chapter!
> 
> a side and unrelated note: Incest is gross. If you're getting a despaircest vibe from emotional/physical abuse & manipulation then you're gross too and you should probably do something more productive than harass strangers on the internet.

The best radio reception was in the dojo on the fifth floor.

According to the headmaster, there was a frequency jammer on a nearby building that affected the lower floors of the old school building. Thus, all communications would have to be held on the top floor. Not that anyone wanted to use the radio. It was better to hope foolishly that their families were still alive then confirm their deaths. 

This left the dojo quiet, making it an optimal place for Mukuro to remain during the day. It used to be a serene place, but the state of the outside world had made the atmosphere tense.

The only noise came from Mukuro’s own footsteps as she drove knife after knife into the practice dummies.

Junko had told her five days. Five days for her to finish preparations so that the School Life of Mutual Killing could finally begin. 

(Mukuro could hardly stand the wait.)

As she skewered yet another target, there was a faint buzzing from the radio in the corner. Mukuro approached it slowly, gripping her knife tightly. If an outsider was to reach the school, there could be an unfortunate issue.

She seated herself on the floor, turning the dials gently, until the voice on the other line became clear. 

“Hello?” they said, “Is anyone listening?”

Mukuro said, “Who is this? How did you get our radio channel?”

“My name is Koichi Kizakura,” he replied. Mukuro tensed, the thought of her old teacher filling her head. She assumed that he had died when Class 77 revolted. Kizakura continued, “I’m a member of the Future Foundation, and the leader of Branch Three. I must speak with Jin Kirigiri as soon as possible.”

Mukuro responded smoothly, “The headmaster is currently occupied with an internal emergency, and cannot speak now. May I take a message to him?”

(The lies rolled off her tongue as easy as breathing.)

Kizakura said, “I’m afraid this information is confidential. Is there any possibility that he would be able to come and speak now?”

“No, not a chance,” Mukuro said.

Kizakura hesitated, “I understand. I’ll radio back at a later time. ...One question, do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar.”

“Unlikely,” Mukuro lied, “I’ve never heard of you until now.”

He said, “Apologies. Please, as soon as possible, have Jin Kirigiri call us. He knows our radio channel.”

Before he could say anything else, Mukuro plunged the knife into the radio, instantly rendering it useless. A few sparks flew out of it, but then the machine clattered duly onto the floor.

(Her hands no longer shook.)

-

Junko was waiting for her on top of the storage building, across from the main school. Her legs were dangling over the edge of the roof, a pair of binoculars in her hands. When she heard the door open, she leaned her head back, “Hey, Muku-chan! How’s it going?”

Mukuro walked up to her, and then sat down on the cold, rough concrete, swinging her own legs over the side. She said, “It’s done. I mean, I got rid of the body.”

Junko grinned, “Nice! I’m just waiting for our lovely upperclassmen to start the fun.” She paused for a moment, then tossed a pile of clothes at Mukuro, “Change into these when you can. You smell like absolute shit.”

“Yes, sis,” Mukuro said, focusing on the dark blue glass in front of her. The two didn’t say anything else for a long moment, until Mukuro said, “I ran into Kamukura down there. Did you really tell him that he could go see Nanami?”

Junko replied, “Uh, yeah. You have a fuckin’ problem with that?”

Mukuro shook her head, “I was just curious.”

In order to divert the conversation, she asked, “What are they going to do?”

“I gave one of the more destructive looking ones some pyrotechnics,” Junko replied, “They’re gonna burn this shitty school to the ground! And hopefully kill Yukizome-sensei along with that.”

“I thought you disposed of her,” Mukuro said.

Junko shrugged, “Eh, couldn’t get her alone for more than a couple seconds. Besides, she’ll feel so much more  _ despair _ if she’s killed by one of her dear students, right?”

Mukuro nodded, a small smile on her face, “Right, she will.”

A loud sound entered the air, and Mukuro just had time to cover her face before shards of glass shot at them like bullets. Hot air and the distinct smell of smoke quickly followed.

Junko grinned manically, “Here we go! This is it, sis! This is everything we’ve ever  _ dreamed _ of!”

“It’s beautiful,” Mukuro murmured, watching the havoc unfolding on the grounds below.

Junko tugged her hand, “We’d better skedaddle. It’s best if we look like innocent little kids who were just in their rooms, not doing any wrong.”

Mukuro protested, “But I want to watch…”

Junko laughed, “Oh, believe you me. There’ll be so much to watch that your eyes will roll from their sockets. Now let’s get a move on!”

Fire and ash in the air, billowing from the school and rushing towards her nostrils, Mukuro leapt after Junko.

-

Smoke poured out of the incinerator, as the last remains of the radio melted into nothing.

Mukuro leaned against the wall, idly tapping her fingers, as she watched the parts become unrecognizable. It was quiet in the trash room, but she was completely alone. The soundproofing may have helped her feel more isolated, but at this point, it could merely be her own mind.

The silence was shattered when the door was kicked open, quite literally, by Junko. She strutted up to Mukuro, “Whatcha burning?”

“The radio,” Mukuro responded, “Someone tried to contact the headmaster. I didn’t want to put anything at risk.”

Junko made a noise to show she’d heard, then turned to look out the door. She whispered, “We’re so close, Muku-chan.”

Mukuro lowered her voice to match her sister’s, “How much longer?”

“As soon as I get the memory serum all finished up,” Junko said, “then we’ll be golden. We need extra in order to take care of Kirigiri-san.”

_ Right. _ Kirigiri’s talent of Super High-School Level Detective had the potential to throw a wrench in the works. She was the only person that Junko had been worried about.

(Now there was only one person left that could screw her sister over.)

Junko added, “This is the home stretch. Just a little longer, and we can crush their stupid hopeful faces in so much despair!”

Mukuro grinned, “The anticipation is killing me.”

-

Mukuro hadn’t been allowed to witness Jin Kirigiri’s execution, but the screams echoing through the empty halls was enough confirmation that he was dead.

She had been hovering around the library all evening, unsure of what to do with herself. Junko had strictly instructed her to keep out of the way while she dealt with the headmaster and their classmates. Mukuro idly drummed her fingers on one of the tables, bored out of her mind. Come morning, she would be dressed in some of Junko’s old clothes, a wig atop her head.

(Junko said it would be more exciting that way, but Mukuro didn’t see the appeal.)

Three and a half hours after she first stationed herself in the library, the door swung open. Junko was leaning against the doorframe, two mysterious cases in one hand, and an unidentifiable object in the other. When Mukuro didn’t move from her seat, she huffed and marched over, placing what she was carrying on the table, before leaping up and sitting on it herself.

“That one’s for you,” Junko said, pushing one of the black cases at her. Mukuro opened it tentatively to find a row of filled syringes, and a glass bottle that contained a silvery liquid, all encased with velvet lining.

“What is this?” Mukuro asked, prying the bottle out of the case, and holding it up to her eye.

Junko pulled it out of her hands, and shoved it back in the case, “Extra serum, dipshit. There’s some backup syringes too, in case any break. Ready?”

Mukuro nodded, then said, “And… what's that other thing in your hand?”

“Ahh…” Junko said, opening her hand to reveal what appeared to be a thick, metal box, “I’d call it my magnum opus, but that would be a bold faced lie. I got some help from the Super High-School Level Inventor, and from our own Fujisaki to create it.” 

She passed it to Mukuro, who deftly pried it open. Mukuro froze for a moment, unsure what she was looking at, “Is this… a compact mirror?”

Junko huffed, “You’re so stupid. Press the little button on the side.” When Mukuro compiled, part of the bottom popped up, revealing a series of small buttons, and what appeared to be a miniature microphone. Mukuro stared at Junko in confusion for a little longer, until Junko rolled her eyes, “This is the most important thing I will ever give you, so get this into your tiny brain cells. It’s a control panel. In case something ever happens to me, this will give you direct control over Monokuma.”

“It what?” Mukuro replied.

“Bitch, you heard me,” Junko said, “This button will send executive control to this panel. That one puts all active Monokumas into AI mode, and you can probably guess what the microphone is for.”

Mukuro lightly brushed her hand on it, “And you’re… trusting me with this?”

Junko hissed, “Don’t make me regret it. If you give yourself control at any time, for any reason not approved by me, I’ll end your goddamn life, so don’t get cocky. It’s for emergency purposes only.”

Mukuro nodded, “I understand. Emergency purposes only.”

Junko grinned, “Great! Now, grab your shit, and let’s get moving. We only have a couple hours to jack their memories and dress you up.” She leapt off the table, grabbing one of the larger cases as she did so. Mukuro scrambled to her feet, taking the serum case and the panel she had been entrusted with.

She followed Junko down the stairs and into the main part of the building. Her sister said, “I’ve got the west half, you do the east. We meet back here when we’re done, capiche?”

“Got it.”

Mukuro entered the first classroom to see Celeste at one of the desks. She set the case on another desk, and selected a syringe. With her thumb on the plunger and the needle in the air, Mukuro walked over, and gently rolled up the gambler’s sleeve. She injected the serum into her vein, then removed the syringe, and returned Celeste’s clothes to normal.

(One down. Seven to go.)

In the room over, Asahina was slumped over, her head resting on her arms like a pillow. Mukuro repeated the process, despite the ghost of a laugh that prodded her in the back of her mind. She was done quickly, and now she had a rhythm. 

After Asahina was Togami, who posed no troubles to her at all. The fourth person she saw was Oowada, whose hair looked just as ridiculous as always. She was halfway now, and a surge of confidence rose in her chest.

It dropped when she entered the fifth room to find Naegi. The indescribable sensation of a smile ran through her head, and Mukuro gritted her teeth. He took a moment longer than the others had, and she cursed herself for falling behind.

She assumed her troubles would be over, but Kuwata  was right next door to the classroom Naegi was in, and she felt her hands twitch at her sides. Mukuro clenched her fists, and shoved the needle into Kuwata’s arm with an unnecessary amount of force.

(Two left.)

The last room on the east side held Sayaka Maizono. Something tight pinched in the back of Mukuro’s brain, but she slammed the case onto a nearby desk, and produced the seventh syringe. Gently, she pushed up Maizono’s sleeve, and pressed down on the plunger, letting the liquid fill her veins. Mukuro put the used needle back in the box and prepared to leave, then paused to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Maizono’s ear.

(Eight empty syringes and one bottle of extra serum.)

Mukuro then left the classroom, her hands tightly closed around the two cases. Junko was waiting for her in the hallway, a bright beam on her face.

“Okay!” she yelled, “That’s it! We did it, Muku-chan, we caused our wonderful classmates  _ despair! _ ”

Mukuro choked out, “We’re not finished.”

Junko blinked, then raised an eyebrow, “Uh, yeah we are. We just gotta dress you up, and then we’re golden. I already killed Kirigiri-sensei, remember?”

“There’s someone we forgot,” Mukuro replied.

Junko laughed, “Ha! Good one, sis! Who is this mysterious person that hasn’t been dealt with, then? Huh?!”

(One filled syringe.)

“You.”

Junko didn’t have time to say anything, because in the next instant, she was crumpled on the floor. Mukuro stood above her, her hand still raised in the air. Once, she would recoiled in fright at the sight of her unconscious sister. She produced the last syringe, then kneeled on the cold tile next to Junko, her voice quiet and monotone.

“I like you better without your memories.”


	6. Chapter 6

Junko was heavier than she looked.

By the time Mukuro had dragged her limp body into one of the empty rooms, her stomach was heaving. She draped Junko over one of the desks, then stood back and took a few deep breaths. A hideous silence had fallen over the school, but it was laced with an enticing sensation. Only an hour before the killing game would begin. Only an hour until she could witness her beloved classmates experience despair.

(It was exactly what Junko would have wanted.)

Mukuro left her sister in the room, then disposed of the serum cases and the wig in the incinerator. With that dealt with, she stood in the forefront of the noise and considered her options. 

Easily, she could hole herself up in the data centre on the fourth floor and watch over the game from there. From there, she had full control over Monokuma, and could keep a watchful eye on the others. 

…But that wasn't fun. Watching despair fold out only on a screen was all she had done for the last few weeks. No, Mukuro needed  _ excitement. _ It was decided, then. She would play the game too. 

She felt her heart rate increase at the very thought. 

Her hands found the compact that Junko had given her. Mukuro pressed the button that started up the AI. According to a tiny countdown, it would commence in exactly one and a half hours.

Mukuro raced back through the school, then stopped. There weren't any more empty classrooms. Undeterred, she forced the door to the school store open, hopped over the counter, and sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest.

There was no clock in the room, but Mukuro could hear the minutes ticking by. Her eyelids were heavy. But she had an excuse - she had been awake for the past day, and after all her hard work, a quick break wouldn’t be too detrimental. She couldn’t force them open any longer.

It took Mukuro a solid three minutes to realize that she didn’t have to make excuses for herself anymore.

That thought encouraged a silent but intense fire to flare in her chest. For Mukuro’s entire life, she had been the accomplice, the shadow, the  _ tool _ . But now,  _ she _ was in control,  _ she _ had all the power, and Junko was  _ helpless _ .

Mukuro didn’t remember when the feeling of ‘I deserve better’ had wormed its way into her head, or why she had suddenly been compelled to stand up to her sister after the years of abuse she had been put through, but she liked it this way, and she didn’t want it to change, not ever.

Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, sixty. Mukuro drifted in and out of consciousness until she heard footsteps outside in the hallway. She raised her head, then got to her feet. She waited behind the counter for a bit longer, listening her to classmates call for help - they sounded so  _ hopeless _ and the despair hadn’t even begun - then hopped over and out.

The door to the entrance hall was right across from the school store. Mukuro stood just outside it for a moment, lucky for once in her life that nobody was around. Junko had painstakingly drilled acting tips into her head, but they were meant to be used when pretending to be the hideously fake version of her sister that had lived in the public eye for the past five years.

Her hands were shaking at her sides. Mukuro clenched her fists, closed her eyes, and began to regulate her breathing. In moments, her heartbeat had calmed.

Mukuro had been a machine her whole life, and now she finally had her chance to be a human being.

A grin flickered onto her face. She took a few deep breaths, and placed her hand on the door handle. Then, without an ounce of trepidation in her step, Mukuro pushed open the door to greet her friends.

The only people there were Ishimaru and Asahina, neither of whom were a surprise. Both of them looked at her as she entered, confused expressions on their faces.

Asahina said, “Hey, are you a Hope’s Peak student too?”

Mukuro tilted her head slightly, then said, “Yes. I’m the Super High-School Level Soldier.”

Ishimaru said, “How curious! We are in fact three for three on that count now. My name is Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and I am the Super High-School Level Prefect!”

“And I’m Aoi Asahina, the Super High-School Level Swimmer!” she chirped, “Nice to meet you… uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Ikusaba. Mukuro Ikusaba,” Mukuro replied distantly. How long had it been since she set up the AI?

Asahina smiled and began writing Mukuro’s name on her palm. Meanwhile, Ishimaru said, “Do you think that there are others around here?”

Mukuro said slowly, “It’s likely. We should wait here for at least a bit.”

The other two seemed to agree. They waited around as the others slowly spilled into the room. Mukuro was grateful for her intimidating disposition, as it meant that she only had to ‘introduce’ herself a couple more times.

She was in the middle of making a passing remark to Celeste, when a panicked shout broke the air.

“MUKU-CHAN!”

Mukuro didn’t even have the chance to turn around before Junko lunged forwards and hugged her around the neck. On instinct, she flinched, only for it to suddenly hit her. She didn’t have to be weak anymore. With that surge of confidence, she shoved Junko away. A few of the others who had been looking at the two of them quickly turned their heads away.

Junko whispered, “Muku-chan, what’s going on? Where are we, and who are these people?”

Mukuro was about to answer, when Asahina asked gently, “Ikusaba-chan? Do you know her already?”

Junko beamed, “You bet she does! Muku-chan is my wonderful older twin sister!”

Mukuro nodded slowly, keeping a careful eye on Junko. It seemed that the memory wipe had worked perfectly on her. Bubbly, clueless, and not a hint of despair.

She was Ryouko Otonashi all over again, and it caused Mukuro’s heart to swell with power.

“That’s sweet! Who are you?” Asahina asked, “I’m Aoi Asahina, by the way.”

Junko opened her mouth a few times, closing it after a couple of seconds. Eventually, she shrugged uselessly.

Mukuro sighed, “She’s Junko Enoshima, and she’s the Super High-School Level Model.”

Asahina said, “I thought you were twins. Why do you have different last names?”

“Nasty divorce,” Mukuro lied fluidly, “It’s better this way, anyways. We can’t be confused for the other.”

Asahina seemed to accept the excuse, and Junko tugged on Mukuro’s wrist. The soldier turned to glance at her sister, who looked legitimately scared. This wasn’t the lie that she had projected towards thousands of people for years. No, she was truly terrified.

“Sis?” Junko asked, “What’s going on?”

Mukuro replied, “Can you really not remember?” When Junko shook her head, she added, “We got accepted to go to Hope’s Peak Academy, but we passed out in front of the gates.”

Junko bit her lip, “I… don’t remember any of that.”

“What do you remember?”

She shrugged, “I woke up in a classroom, and I had the urge to find you. That’s… about it.”

Mukuro raised an eyebrow, “Do you not remember being accepted here? You’re a world famous supermodel.”

Junko’s eyes widened, “I am? But, uh, no. I’m sorry, sis. I’m still useless, aren’t I?”

Mukuro softened, “Don’t worry, Junko-chan. You’ve always had awful memory problems.”

It was funny. Before that, Mukuro never even would have dreamed of lying to Junko. Now, the falsities spilled out of her lips like a waterfall, without hesitation or regret. The difference was so nice, and it was intensely refreshing.

Mukuro had missed Fenrir, missed being in control of herself. But in Fenrir, she’d done nothing but take orders and act as a weapon. Mukuro had only believed that she was free in Fenrir because of the suffocating rule that Junko always had. This was different, this was true control.

(And Mukuro didn’t miss her mercenary group one bit.)

The loudspeakers crackled overhead.

“Ahh, mic test! This is an announcement! All new students, please proceed to the gymnasium as soon as possible! We want to start this year’s entrance ceremony as soon as possible!”

Monokuma’s ear bleeding voice made Mukuro cringe. Of all the voices to be installed, why that one? Still, she knew that the AI was working without problem.

Junko tensed, “W-What was that just now?”

Not all of her classmates seemed to be as scared. Togami had already turned around, “I’m going on ahead.”

“Why are you leaving so quickly?!” Junko cried, but she got no response.

Following Togami was Hagakure, then Kuwata, Fujisaki, and Celeste, and then Fukawa. Ten people remained in the entrance hallway, counting Mukuro herself.

“Is it… really all right?” Maizono asked nervously.

Junko nodded, “That announcement was… so freaky.”

“We can’t expect to escape danger just by staying here, though. Besides, aren’t you intrigued? Don’t you want to know what’s happening to us right now?” Kirigiri’s calm composure, even in the face what could have been death for all the detective knew, came to no surprise, but it irritated Mukuro anyways.

Oogami dipped her head, “If we do not go forth we shall never know. Therefore, we must go.”

Naegi said quietly, “The… gymnasium, was it?”

Mukuro hissed to Junko, “Let’s go. We should go see what’s happening.”

The two left the entrance without issue. None of Junko’s memories seemed to be resurfacing, which was a relief to Mukuro.

Rows of plastic chairs sat on a carpet - which Mukuro suddenly realized she was responsible for removing later - but there was no sign of Monokuma just yet.

“See?” Hagakure said, “It’s just a regular school entrance ceremony. Nothing to worry about!”

Mukuro wasn’t sure if it was Yamada’s arrival in the gym, or simply a horrible coincidence, but at that very second, Monokuma’s voice rang out.

“Is everyone here? Then it’s time to begin!”

Sixteen pairs of eyes looked up towards the podium, but only fifteen were surprised when the black and white bear popped out.

“A… teddy bear?” Fujisaki asked.

Monokuma replied, “I’m Monokuma! And I’m the headmaster of this school! Nice to meet you all!”

As her classmates screamed and spluttered in confusion, Mukuro zoned out. The AI was working just fine, speaking just evasively enough that it could appear to be answering questions. Not even being told that they had to kill each other to escape brought up a sizeable reaction. She watched the scene with disinterest, until Oowada grabbed Monokuma and held him up in the air.

_ This… could be interesting. _

Loud beeping filled the air to match Oowada’s fruitless shouts. Would this be it? Would this be the despairing example for her classmates?

“Throw it!” Kirigiri shouted, “Just do it!”

Or not.

Oowada complied, and in the next second, the Monokuma he had been holding blew up. The resulting ashes from the explosion made the whole room cough. Mukuro waited tersely, then let out a quiet sigh of relief when another Monokuma popped up.

The yelling resumed again, and Mukuro ceased listening. This wasn’t the despair that she had been after, this was just general chaos. And that wasn’t any fun at all. She waited silently, not contributing to the mess, until she realized that Monokuma had disappeared, and Togami was talking. Normally, she couldn’t give a damn about what he said, but these were different times.

“The problem isn’t whether it’s a lie or not. The problem is… if there’s someone among us who takes it seriously,” Togami finished, casting suspicious glances through the crowd. Just like that, a layer of ice seemed to cover the room.

Despair comes in many forms. It came from Junko’s quakes as she gripped Mukuro’s arm, and from Maizono’s sudden skittishness. It came from Ishimaru and Fujisaki’s confusion, Kuwata’s denial, Togami and Celeste’s silent fury, and even from Hagakure’s blissful ignorance.

Mukuro drank it all up in seconds, but found herself still thirsty for more.


End file.
